Nocturne
by Sesshyfan1121
Summary: An Abel & Caterina tale. A moonlight stroll in the garden becomes anything but peaceful when Fleurs du Mal unleash thier newest scheme.


Dusk was Caterina's favorite time of day. In that fragile, fleeting time between night and day, dark and light, it felt as if the world held its breath. She laughed softly to herself; it was a good thing that her older brother had no telepaths on his staff. She would have paid dearly for what he would see as frivolity. But then, a Cardinal and a Duchess could have secrets. And the exquisite gardens of Palazzio Spada were her secret refuge. For a few stolen moments, she could wander through the roses and forget, if only momentarily, the pressures of the day.

She stopped, twisting a crimson blossom from a plant. She felt a small pang of sorrow that she had deprived the flower of its purpose for her own enjoyment, and then reminded herself that it was too late for regrets now. Like the path she had chosen for herself. Some days she thought that if not for her family- those in AX, and the innocents of the world, it would be too much to bear. Certainly, those related to her by blood did not work to smooth her way, one brother a war-hungry bully, and one still so much a child. "And not just any child." She murmured to herself.

"Talking to yourself again, Lady Caterina?" a voice inquired from behind her. She turned to face Abel, and smiled slightly. "Well, one has to make do with the company one has." He laughed, and she loved the sound. It was so rare that either of them had even fleeting happiness. "I thought that you might be here." He changed the subject. "Is something wrong?" she inquired, always ready for fresh dangers. "Something stirs in the night." He replied, looking past her at the high stone walls that stood as a barrier to the outside world. They were only the most obvious of the obstacles in the path of any intruder. "Sister Kate is being particularly vigilant." He hastened to inform her.

Caterina sighed. "It seems never ending. Still, we do what we must." He smoothed a strand of hair away from her face. "I've always…appreciated that determination, Caterina." She felt her breath catch in her throat. "Is that …all…you've appreciated?" she countered. The moment seemed to stretch into years, time turning languid like a river in summer, slow and lazy. "No." he said finally. His fingertips barely rested on the slope of her cheekbone, but it was the most exquisite sensation imaginable to her.

And then something she couldn't hear caught his attention, and his gaze changed from the warmth it had held to something cooler and alert. It was the gaze of a predator sensing prey.

In the skies above, Sister Kate swore an unholy oath as the Iron Maiden's controls ignored her commands. She switched to messaging in an attempt to warn the city below, but received another shock when she got only static.

And with a rustling of dark wings and darker intentions, the unholy fell minions of the Fleurs du Mal made their appearance. A myriad of them, Caterina estimated. Beside her, Abel had completed his transformation into his Crusnik form. She heard the whistle of the bloodsycthe as it sliced through the air above her head. "Caterina, run." He growled. "Oh yes, do run." The vampire leader of the myriad sneered. "I prefer prey with spirit. So much better than that my sister is hunting. That boy Pope will probably just snivel and whine when he dies. Hard to believe he's your brother." "What?" snarled Abel, shifting the bloodscythe just enough that its killing song hummed through the air.

"I was supposed to let you think that this was the main attack, but I wanted to see the looks on your faces. How priceless." The vampire chuckled. "Abel, stop!" Caterina's voice sliced through the determined step forward he made, the bloodscythe menacing in his hands. "Protect Alessandro." He hesitated. "That's an order, damn it!" she snarled. "We cannot take the chance that he is lying." He spread his wings wide, making a shield of bone and feather between her and the vampire and his host. "There is still time for you to retreat." "I am not without my own defenses." She reminded him. "Now GO." And such was the steel in her tone that he didn't hesitate further, but moved with supernatural speed to the heart of the compound, searching for prey. And as he ran, he did something he had not felt the need to do since Noelle's death. He prayed.

Meanwhile, Caterina faced the vampire, and his beasts, with unruffled calm. She could have been watching grass grow for all the fear she displayed. Coolly she freed her stiletto from her sleeve, silver blade glinting in the moonlight. The vampire laughed. "Surely you do not mean to attack me armed with only that? I applaud your spirit if not your mental acuity. " Caterina did not dignify his taunts with a reply. She held the vampire's gaze with her own, ignoring the myriad. She knew enough of their type to be aware that they only attacked when told to do so. Instead, she removed her gloves, allowing them to fall to the ground. She drew the stiletto's blade across her palm, not deeply, but enough to bring blood, and dropped to one knee.

The vampire smiled. "There's no need to have done that. I would have been happy to draw your blood myself. But I do appreciate your consideration." "Truly?" Caterina countered. "Will you still, as you are dying? I wonder." She pressed her palm against the ground, and, stabbing the stiletto into the earth beside her, tugged at the heavy gold cross she wore at her throat, snapping the fine gold chain.

As she had said, she was not without defenses. The Palazzio had been built at a nexus of ley lines, which carried the residual power that kept the planet whirling on its axis. She pulled that power to her, using her blood and her very being as a conduit. She held it, until she could hold no more and then, using the cross as a focus, let it rain down on the vampire and the myriad, cleansing even their shadows from the ground. When she was absolutely sure that there was nothing left, she let go. She sank to her knees in among the scattered rose petals. Her hands ached, one from its wound, and one from how tightly she'd gripped the cross. She let it slip through her fingers, wincing from the burn of the misshapen shape it had become, the gold melted and reformed into the shape of her hand by the power that had arced through it. She felt weak as a day-old kitten. The human body was not meant to withstand what she had just put hers through, and she had no doubt that Heaven's power had been all that had kept her from death. But for now, she was so very tired…she knew that she should discover what had become of her brother, and of Abel. Perhaps in a moment….but consciousness escaped her.

Abel and Hugue had taken care of the vampires that had fought their way through the child Pope's Inquisitorial Guard. With their skills, the battle had been as short as it had been bloody. "Sworddancer, I leave the boy in your hands." Abel announced, turning once more toward the hallway, back to the garden. "There were…." And he stopped. "Do you smell that?" he demanded. Confused looks were his only answer. "Smell what?" Alessandro quavered. "Blood…I know this blood. Caterina!" Abel did not hesitate, not knowing or caring that the two followed him.

When he reached the garden, he raced to her fallen form, horrified at the thought that she was gone forever. Her pulse was weak but still there. "What happened here?" Sworddancer queried as Abel rose, Caterina in his arms. "Sister!" cried Alessandro. He would have rushed to her, but Hugue stopped him with a firm hand. "Does she live?" he asked. "Yes." Was all that Abel could say, continuing toward the building once more, already knowing that the medical wing would be busy, and not caring.

Nothing and no one could be as important as the one he carried. Alessandro tagged along, concerned in his own way, and unnoticed by the Crusnik. The sisters in the medical wing started to protest when Abel forced his way inside, but went quiet at the glare he shot them. Alessandro piped up then, for once acting like the Pope he was, instead of the frightened little boy he usually reverted to.

In the garden, Sworddancer picked up the lump of gold that had once been a cross. In the skies above, Sister Kate restored control over the Iron Maiden, and, with the help of the Professor, began to piece together just what had happened.

Caterina remained asleep for three days. Abel never left her side, and when she woke up, his was the first face she saw. And over the sharp tang of antiseptic and medicine that was always present in this area, she smelled roses. As she looked around, she gave up on even counting the flowers; there were just that many – she could see even in the moonlight. "If you cannot be in the garden, then the garden will come to you." He said simply. "How do you feel?" "Much better than I thought I would." She admitted and smiled up at him. "How long?"

"Three days." Was the reply. "Well then, I'm sure there are reports that need my attention." She began, all business, and straightened up, intending to begin then and there. But she found herself swept tightly into his embrace. "Never force me to leave you again." He begged, and in his voice, she heard the anguish and the guilt of the past three days and nights. "I would never willingly cause you pain, Abel." She answered, wrapping her own arms around him. Perhaps the reports could wait a little longer. It was, after all, the still of the night. And she so loved a moonlit garden – and the angel who had brought it to her.


End file.
